106. Bumps in the Night

For the first time in my life, I’m beginning to know what it’d be like to lose my mind. Paranoia is hell on rationality. The Florence hotel has bed bugs. I awoke to little red, itchy lumps all over my body, eaten alive overnight! The others have suffered a similar affliction.

I don’t know much about bed bugs. Do they live in clothes? In hair? Do they carry diseases?

I must look like an idiot, attacking every black fleck of fuzz on my person. I am wearing a green stripe shirt because it’s the only light-coloured clothing I brought with me. Good thing the Italians dress well. I’ll blend in. If only they were also blanketed in red spots, then I could be incognito.

The weird thing about these bites is that they don’t so much as itch as they do inflict a prick of pain every so often. I think they are triggered by stress because all will be fine and then several will go off at once. We’re lucky the government hasn’t got their hands on this technology. They could control a man like this!